Author's Note: I'm gone until April, so enjoy this for now. Thanks to Madame Star, Merkaba7734, kittykat, and oirishgoddess for reviewing chapter 9!

The Wedding

Laurel found Iden skulking around the library where they had once spent many happy moments. Since she had not seen him in the two weeks since their argument, she was rather surprised at his presence.

His gaze was cold as he looked at her, and the girl felt offended by the implied disdain buried in his hazel eyes. The corners of her mouth twitched into a frown as he addressed her.

"I think you should let Kel teach you some things. She's good—she taught me some staff work when I was a first-year page." The knight looked at his feet.

"Now you work for her?" she inquired with a forceful strength the lady did not know she possessed.

Iden's eyes snapped back to her face. "I don't 'work' for anyone here. We know your betrothed—" He spit the word out like a curse. "—and we think you should be able to take care of yourself. All of us. We were your friends, if you remember." A flicker of pain coursed across his face before being replaced with hostility once more.

"'Were my friends' is right!" she choked out. "I'm tired of all of your cryptic comments and you all avoiding me like the plague. And I don't want to speak to you—any of you—if you insist on insulting me and my family! Why are you all telling me rumors about my husband-to-be? No—it doesn't even matter what you think. I am going to do what is right because that is what I do!"

Iden, boiling as she made her speech, broke in with an unchecked roar, "And are you going to do what is right by you or what is right by your parents?"

Spinning on her heel, Laurel sighed in frustration and left the little library. She, in her frenzied mind, vowed never to return.

Two days later, the blue-eyed girl woke early. The view from her small window was a light grey mist that had rolled in overnight. She pulled a dressing gown over her nightshirt and strode across the room, bare feet on cold stone. Mitsuko had moved out the day before, and the girl was already uncomfortable having the large chamber to herself. Even at the convent she had always had a roommate; now the empty side of the room seemed to echo the slightest whisper and she felt lonelier than she ever had in her life.

Laurel grabbed a poker from the rack at the side of the fireplace and stirred up the embers left there. She reached down and put a small log on the coals and then retreated to pull an armchair closer to the warm glow. The girl curled up, tucking her bare feet into her robe, and stared into the flickering lights as the dry wood caught flame.

A servant knocking at the door startled her from her daze. The sky outside seemed a bit lighter, but still grey; she guessed that she had been sitting still for an hour or two, enough time to miss breakfast. Laurel rose from her chair to answer. The liveried boy handed her a card and left with a quick bow. The girl shut the cold draft of the empty hall out and unfolded the note. Her blue eyes scanned the formulaic phrases of a summons. Her father had arrived and wished her to come to him in an hour. A servant would be sent to pick her up.

Laurel took a deep breath and held it a moment. When she released it, she was ready to face the day.

At the appointed hour, the young lady was ready for her father's manservant to lead the way. He took her to a part of the palace that she had not seen before, administrative offices mostly. At a door he bowed and opened it for Laurel to enter. "Thank you," she whispered shakily before turning her attentions to what lay inside.

She saw first the long table directly ahead of her with neat stacks of papers on it. Ornate iron candelabra were set at even intervals around the edges of the room, and a series of tapestries featuring some generic story of courtly love decorated the wood paneled walls. The blue-eyed girl took a few steps in and then turned her gaze to the right where a group of four men stood in conversation. The sound of the door clicking shut behind her drew the men's attention to the girl in the royal blue velvet gown.

"Laurel, you've grown," said the deep voice of her father. She had not heard it in years.

The girl immediately curtsied deeply, remembering her manners. "Father, I am so pleased to see you. I hope your journey was pleasant enough."

"You know travel doesn't bother me, my girl," he replied with a suspiciously warm tone. Laurel met his eyes, a shade darker than hers. They both knew that she knew nothing of the sort about him, but it was necessary to keep up family pretenses in front of strangers.

"Come forward, Lady Laurel," said the eldest man of the bunch. His disheveled white hair, spectacles, and ink-stained hands made him every inch the typical bureaucrat. The girl obliged him with downcast eyes; she had yet to learn what this assembly was about.

A gruff voice sounded out next as she drew closer and stopped a few paces from the group. "A pretty thing she is, no question about that." The voice sounded familiar but somewhat stronger. Laurel's eyes rose and saw the pinned sleeve where an arm should have been. It was Greer of Gethin—the Count's son and her future father-in-law. "Now that I've seen her, I'll sign your papers, clerk."

The girl tried not to stare at the three men who turned their attention to the parchments on the table. She saw signatures being written and sealing wax being dripped on and pressed with family rings. So this was her betrothal contract being signed. Now that Sir Greer had seen her for that brief moment, it was done. Laurel had never known that betrothals were so… Cold was the word she thought of first.

The fourth man stared at her all this time. She finally met his gaze with a question in her eyes. "Do you not remember me?" he asked with a half-grin as his eyes scanned her face. He was tall and rather thin with blue-green eyes and short-cropped dark hair. There was something familiar about the shape of his face.

"Ethan," he reminded her. "And you stopped writing me once you got to the palace—too good for your favorite brother now that you're a proper lady?" he asked with humor in his tone.

"Ethan," she repeated breathlessly. She had not seen him in nearly seven years, when they both left home for the convent and the university, and it was true that they had stopped corresponding in the past few months. Laurel was surprised but relieved to see him there. He of all people would certainly understand why she had to marry Jedrek. That was just how they had been brought up; she would have at least one supporter now.

Before she could reply their father stepped between them with the roll of parchment in his hand. "Sir Greer and I are going to make the announcement to the king now that the legal documents have been taken care of. Your mother was ill again and could not travel, so I will arrange the wedding soon. I want to be back in Fury's Valley as soon as possible after Midwinter."

As her father left, Sir Greer studied her for a moment before following. She curtsied for him as he walked past. The siblings were left in the room with the clerk who was back to shuffling papers. Ethan offered her his arm, and she took it without hesitation as they left together.

"Now tell me what occupies a young lady at court," he drawled placing his free hand over hers tucked into the crook of her arm. He looked down at her with a warm smile on his face, and Laurel felt very comfortable. She wondered if he was using his healing magic to soothe her frazzled nerves.

As they paced slowly down the corridor, she replied, "First, tell me why father brought you for my wedding. I wasn't expecting family to come at all."

He sighed and looked forward again. "Mother has sent me to the palace find a bride of my own, and I suppose your great marriage has something to do with the timing. Who would have guessed that sweet Laurel had the makings of a social climber in her? Nursing a rich, old Count for his grandson—the convent taught you all the tricks." His sea-colored eyes flicked down to her face to see her reaction.

"Don't give me that much credit; it was all a coincidence, really," she countered. "I only worked in the infirmary because Neal invited me, and then I took pity on a suffering, old man that just wanted someone to sit with him for a few minutes. Everyone deserves that."

"Neal?" Ethan asked with more than a hint of suspicion in his voice. "Who's he?"

"Sir Nealean of Queenscove, a healer and the son of the Chief Healer here, and his wife Yuki have been very kind to me here," she explained evenly. "Why don't I take you to meet them?"

The siblings exchanged stories to cover the last few months during which they had not corresponded as Laurel led them down familiar passages to Neal and Yuki's suite. Upon their arrival, she knocked and the knight-healer himself answered.

"Lady Laurel," he said civilly. "It's been a few days—how are you?" His green eyes looked at her curiously, but she ignored them.

"Neal, I would like you to meet my brother Ethan whom I told you about. He just came to court today with my father…"

With introductions made, they were invited in. "Yuki and the girls are out, I'm afraid, but I will put some tea on for us," Neal said.

The lady intervened and took the kettle from his hand, "I can make the tea. Please, sit down."

Neal obeyed and set about chatting with the newcomer. "We went to the University together, I remember, I was a year behind you…" The men named names and talked about the people they knew in common. By the time the tea was ready, Ethan had been invited to work in the infirmary as well.

"Are you planning to stay for long?" the green-eyed man asked.

"I don't know," replied Ethan. "I plan on finding a wife after Laurel here gets married, but who knows how long that will take. Perhaps you haven't heard yet, but she is to wed Sir Jedrek of Gethin in a few weeks' time when he gets in from the border."

"Yes, I did hear," Neal answered with restraint. He looked to the girl as he continued. "That's the problem with court life, you know. Everyone knows everyone's business."

Time flew by quickly as plans were hastily thrown together for the wedding. Two weeks after the Lord of Fury's Valley arrived was the day of the last feast of Midwinter. The wedding was to take place in the grand ballroom just before the ball began. In this time, Laurel had sometimes feared that Iden or his group would do something drastic, but still no great attempts at sabotage had occurred. She instead spent most of her time showing Ethan around the palace and sitting with him by the fireplace in her room as they reconnected after seven years of only letters between them.

With a few alterations, her cream and silver dress from Lalasa's shop was perfect for the ceremony. On Midwinter's day, her father had sent a maid to help her get ready, and so she spent the morning soaking in a hot, rose-scented bath and having fragrant oils rubbed into her skin. She picked at a light lunch in her dressing gown as the maid curled her hair and pinned half of it up on her head. A comb with blue crystals that had been Ethan's Midwinter gift to her was tucked in to one side. As the afternoon went on, Laurel had her corset tightened and the gown slid on over her head. She did her own face paint, taking her time until Ethan arrived to pick her up.

Her mind felt disconnected from her body throughout the entire process. Laurel followed the gentle prodding of the maid as they moved from each activity to the next, but for the most part, her mind was a blank. She was already resolved to the evening's event, so there was nothing else to think about. Her mind was instead set on the little steps she was taking towards her wedding.

The maid let her brother in at the appointed time—everything was going so smoothly—and the girl sprayed on her favorite jasmine perfume before making her way to the door. Ethan took her arm as the maid closed the door behind them. She would be responsible for packing the girl's things so that they could be moved to the new suite that she would share with her husband. Laurel would never walk into that room again.

The siblings found their way to the antechamber on one side of the ballroom. Peeking through the doors, they saw that a decent crowd of nobles mingling in the hall, already dressed for the festivities later that evening they had come early to witness the first marriage of the freshest group of convent girls—a young, talented singer and healer matched to an honorable military family's knighted son. It was the sort of thing that ambitious matchmakers dreamed about. The king and queen were even honoring the ceremony by watching from their thrones on the dais to the left. Looking around, Laurel saw the familiar faces of some of her convent year mates in the hall as well.

She sucked in a quick breath as she allowed herself to look to the far end of the red carpeted aisle. There a knight stood in a dress tunic, Sir Jedrek of Gethin. He had come in from the border two days before, but their fathers had decided on the old custom of keeping them apart until the wedding. He was of average height with wide shoulders and the muscular build of a working knight. From the distance she could only tell that he had a thin, clean-shaven face with a strong chin and wavy black hair tied back in a short queue.

Ethan tapped the girl's shoulder and she pulled back from her spying. Laurel turned to her newly arrived father and curtsied; he bowed his head in return, his eyes examining her appearance. He must have been satisfied because he motioned for her to take his arm for the walk down the aisle.

With a grin, Ethan said, "Good luck, Laurel." He slipped out through the crack in the door to join the waiting crowd. The two remaining nobles of Fury's Valley stood in wait by the door. The girl swallowed hard.

Her father, without looking down, told her, "I don't think that I've yet acknowledged your good work in the convent and here at the palace. Remember to uphold the dignity of the name Fury's Valley, even if you're a Gethin." Laurel did not know how to respond to that, so she remained silent.

The music struck up in the ballroom, so the girl sucked in another breath as the double doors opened to the inside. Her father stepped with the beat, and she had to concentrate just to keep even with his stride. She felt self-conscious as everyone stared at her with smiles on their faces. She saw Amelie and Merric on one side, and the petite lady gave a small but excited wave. Laurel responded with a faint smile.

She was not sure if she was breathing when she reached the end. Jedrek had watched her approach, his eyes exploring her the entire time. Laurel did the same right back. She noted that his ruby tunic with gold trim flattered his eyes which were a medium shade of brown with golden flecks glowing in them. As her father stopped and she looked up into these new eyes, the only thought she had was, That's the color of Gethin, but I don't look good in red.

Laurel felt dizzy as the ceremony proceeded. A Mithran priest stood before them and gave a long prayer as they both looked forward. He lifted their hands and placed hers in Jedrek's. It was warm and dry, and he gently wrapped his fingers around her hand. The priest had Jedrek recite his vows and then called on her to do the same. She had rehearsed the words often over the last few days, and they came out without a thought.

After another blessing, the priest raised his hands in the air and proclaimed them wedded in the sight of the gods and the assembled. Jedrek turned to face her, and the girl rotated slowly to meet him with a slightly apprehensive stare. Still holding her hand, he slowly leaned in and pressed his warm lips to hers, holding them there for a long moment.

A forefinger moved to the space between her eyebrows and traced its way down the side of her nose, over the bumps of her lips and chin, tracing the scar that she had revealed to him there. Then, Iden slowly leaned down, bringing his lips toward hers.

At the last moment, Laurel turned her head to the side, and his lips, unconcerned with the change of destination, touched her cheek. He did not pull away in defeat; instead, he planted a line of kisses along her cheekbone. The girl was the one to break their contact with a sigh.

"No, Iden, I don't think we should…" she trailed off with her eyes closed in disbelief…

His hands came back up to stroke her wavy, warm brown hair and cup her cheek. "Then don't think about it, Laurel," he told her huskily with bluish-green eyes boring into her. "Just do for once."

It was over then. Laurel had had her first real kiss, and now she was married to Sir Jedrek of Gethin. She was now Lady Laurel of Gethin.

The crowd of nobles was all smiles and cheers. Still feeling woozy, she allowed her new husband to lead her through the crowds of well-wishers to the dais of the monarchs. King Jonathon and Queen Thayet both stood as the couple, still holding hands, bowed and curtsied to them in sync. When Laurel met Thayet's gaze, the woman looked radiant as always. "Congratulations"—the queen's mouth moved to form the word, but Laurel could not hear anything over the buzzing mob of the ballroom.

They moved off to the side where Jedrek finally released the girl's hand. Some knights and soldiers came up to shake his hand and kiss Laurel's cheek. She still felt stuck in a trance with a smile plastered on her face as she thanked everyone who came up, hardly registering names as they walked right by.

It was odd that the pair had not even had a conversation, yet she was tied to him for life. The people who walked up to them probably knew Jedrek better than she did. Abruptly, the stream of people stopped and brown-with-gold eyes were looking down into hers. Laurel blinked. "Would you like to dance?" her husband asked.

"Of course," she replied quickly. The partygoers moved out of their way as the pair made their way to the already filling dance floor. Jedrek's hand on her back guided her to the center of the swirling couples, and he took up her hand again with his other arm wrapping around her waist. This was the most they had ever touched.

Laurel was shaking the daze off now that her body was doing something familiar. Her blue eyes locked with Jedrek's brown, and the corner of his mouth tugged as if he wanted to smile. Or smirk. "Was your trip down to Corus easy?" she asked to break the ice. She had no idea what they would have in common.

"It actually takes twice as long when the snows are piled this high," he told her. Laurel felt like an idiot for asking the question. Of course it was not easy to ride from the northern border in the snow! Her face reddened a bit.

"Have you enjoyed your life at the palace?" he asked in turn.

"It's a very busy place, but yes, I do like it here," the girl told him, feeling that he was starting to warm to her. He was not so strange, her husband. He was only a knight, a man.

The music wound down as the dance finished. The couple paused to applaud the musicians. As a new melody began, Jedrek said, "Perhaps things will settle down for both of us now." Laurel smiled in what she hoped was a sincere way.

This dance was quicker and less conducive to talking as partners were swapped in a circle. Even when they were parted, she felt Jedrek's eyes on her as she twirled in some knight or courtier's arms. In the end, they met again. Laurel was breathing a little heavily from the exertion. Her corset felt too tight, and she wanted a drink. She was about to suggest a break to Jedrek when he spoke first.

He lowered his lips to her ear to whisper a question. "Are you ready to turn in for the night?"

Laurel's pulse rose a little more as nerves overtook her. "Sure," she told him quietly, breathlessly. Jedrek drew back, an inviting smile on his face. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her through the mass of nobles to one of the side doors.

More than one person watched them walk out together. Some knowing smiles and even semi-lewd calls went after them. Laurel's face reddened, and she looked down in shame. Immediately, she knew that she should not be ashamed; she was a newlywed after all and certain things were expected. That thought forced her to raise her chin, but her eyes quickly settled on a group of people she recognized. Yuki, Neal, Kel, Dom, Merric, Amelie, Owen with a sweet looking girl on his arm, and a tight-mouthed Iden stood in a knot near this particular door. As she passed on the arm of Jedrek, they raised their glasses in a silent wish of good luck as would be expected at a wedding—all except Iden, who put his cup to his lips and drained it.

After the couple left, Dom muttered half-heartedly, "We lost a great chance with that one, my friends." He took a long lamenting swig of his wine.

Iden placed his empty goblet on the table a little too hard. "You have no idea," he said cryptically.

Owen regarded his younger cousin with a worried glance. Yuki and Kel's eyes met, and they shared a worry of a different kind.